


Love the Lighting

by saisei



Series: My Halloween Fic [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Photography, Scars, haunted camera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Prompto's camera starts showing him the future.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Series: My Halloween Fic [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997275
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60
Collections: FFXV Halloween Week 2020, Promnis Halloween Weekend





	Love the Lighting

**Author's Note:**

> for the Promnis Halloween prompts yellow/red/black, and FFXV Halloween Week's "haunting".
> 
> Happy Birthday, Prompto!

The first time it happens, Prompto assumes he'd fucked up as a photographer. His lens had been dirty, and that's why Gladio's got a line across his forehead that looks like a new scar. Maybe a stray hair. He deletes the picture and asks Ignis if he can borrow his glasses-cleaning cloth.

Ignis loves him, and hands it over for the price of a kiss.

The weird glitch keeps happening to Gladio's face, though, and Prompto starts getting annoyed. He moves the bad pictures to a folder, looking for the reason. They're all taken on cloudy days; he guesses it must be a weird shadow, and spends so long studying Gladio's forehead that Ignis teases, "Should I be jealous?"

"Is he getting wrinkles?" Prompto asks. He can't see any, but Ignis is the guy who always whips out the sunscreen. (And Gladio always refuses it, huh.)

" _He_ is gonna kick your ass," Gladio threatens. Prompto shuts up.

But then Gladio returns from his top-secret Shield mission with a new scar half-healed across his forehead, and Prompto's stomach does a slow roll as his blood runs cold.

He looks at the pictures one last time, confirming his fear: the scar matches his pictures perfectly. Totally creeped out, he deletes all of them, and goes to go plaster himself to Ignis. Everything Ignis does is perfect, including his hugs.

Fortunately, nothing new or weird showed up on Gladio's face after that, so Prompto relaxes. He lets himself decide that it was a one-time fluke. Maybe a curse, or the gods messing with him. Like Gentiana's photobombs, but creepier.

He's so busy trying to persuade himself that things are fine now that he misses the first scars appearing on Ignis' face.

 _His_ Ignis. _His_ perfect face.

Once he realizes there's a slash bisecting one gorgeous arched eyebrow and it's not a trick of the light, he zooms in on Ignis in all his recent pics, flipping back until he sees the change: unmarked in one shot; the next, an angry red line.

It's not as bad as Gladio's scars, though. Prompto thinks he can live with it.

Then a gash steals across the bridge of Ignis' nose. Before Prompto can adjust to this further violation, Ignis catches on fire.

Prompto drops his camera, as if his fingers are trying to repel the future he's seeing. He'd been trying to get the definitive pic of Ignis looking sexy while driving – he calls it his life's mission, Ignis calls him a stalker – but instead, he saw Ignis' skin cracking open and purple magical fire bleeding out. Actual flames coming out of his eyes.

"The fuck," Gladio grumbles, fishing the camera out of the footwell and passing it back.

"Have you been drinking my Ebony again?" Ignis asks. He doesn't take his eyes off the road, but he reaches over unerringly to ruffle Prompto's hair. His mouth softens into a fond smile, and Prompto wants to capture that expression in a picture... except, he also really, really doesn't.

"You said you'd murder me if I touched your stash," Noct gripes from the back seat. "And I'm your _king_."

"Newsflash, his boyfriend gets special favors," Gladio says, winding Noct up. "Bet you'd let Luna use your fancy-ass lures."

The car fills with good-natured banter and argument after that. Prompto's moment of clumsiness is forgotten.

But he pretends to be seasick on the boat to Altissia. Gladio snaps pictures on his phone, hopefully with less thumb this time, and Prompto lies on a bench with his head in Ignis' lap.

He dozes, gentle fingers massaging his scalp.

When they get to Altissia, he begs Ignis to get a room for the two of them for the night. Ignis, perhaps swept up by the romantic ambiance of the city, agrees.

Prompto makes love to Ignis every way he can, dozing between rounds when he has to. Ignis is stronger than he is, but they're matched in stamina and passion.

When the golden morning light flows into the room, Prompto ignores Ignis' protest that they're unkempt and takes a series of selfies: the two of them pressed together, sated, hair sweat-styled, happy. In love. He peppers Ignis' face with kisses, as if that can hold back the inevitable, until his stomach grumbles very loudly, and then drags Iggy into the shower. They get a ribbing from Gladio over breakfast that makes even Ignis blush.

Prompto finally has the nerve to look at the pictures that afternoon. He locks himself in the bathroom, and tells himself he knows what he'll see.

He's wrong.

Ignis' face in the picture is _fucked up_. A massive burn scar covers the left side, where his eyebrow and lashes are just vanished, burned away, and his eye might be gone, too. Prompto's not sure. The right eye is open and looking at the lens, but instead of green it's a pupil-less cloudy gray. Sightless, Prompto assumes. Blind.

The last scar to appear, like an afterthought, slices through Ignis' lower lip, making the gentle smile he's giving Prompto crooked.

Prompto, lying next to him doesn't look so great himself: he's head to toe bruises. His bare chest is mottled, the black and green and yellow that indicates internal injuries bleeding through, and his neck has a ring of bruising that makes it look like he was choked. One eye is swollen and black, and there's dried blood from a nosebleed smeared over his face. He knows, like a gut punch, the Prompto in the photo is either dead or will be soon.

His chest aches in sympathy. 

He thinks for a moment he might cry, but while his eyes get hot and his breathing fast, he's not sad. He regrets everything that's going to happen, but in a way this is the gods giving him a chance. If he doesn't have much life left to live, he needs to make every second count.

He tosses the camera into the armiger, half-hoping it gets crushed under a shield or something, washes his hands, and goes out to find Ignis.

Like the hero of one of Gladio's romances, Iggy's out leaning on the balcony rail, watching the city with rapt attention. The breeze tugs at his hair: it's already pulled some strands loose. They frame Ignis' perfect face adorably.

Prompto goes out and takes Ignis' hand, leaning up to whisper _I love you_ in his ear.

"And I, you," Ignis returns, squeezing his fingers. "What brings this on?"

"The city of romance," Prompto says, as carelessly as he can. "Plus, you know... I really do. Love you."

Ignis tips his chin up with his free hand and kisses him like that, long and deep, cradling Prompto's face like he can't get enough. He makes Prompto feel loved, head to toe. The gold of a sunbeam envelopes them, and Prompto hopes – prays, maybe, to Gentiana and Leviathan, too – that their love will be enough protection.

*

Prompto gives up photography after Altissia. He doesn't want to be shown anything else.

Noct asks, once, after he returns from the realm of the gods, if Prompto wants to take a selfie for old times' sake.

Prompto refuses, and Noct doesn't ask again.


End file.
